


Do They Know It's Christmas?

by alwayswithatoneofsurprise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas fic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Meet-Cute, OC, Romance, another characters play minor roles, mainly stucky, stucky au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswithatoneofsurprise/pseuds/alwayswithatoneofsurprise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky  Barnes does not enjoy Christmas, never has and probably never will. His family is too much for him to handle, and he prefers to stay away from them as much as possible to escape the feeling of unworthiness his mother seems to never fail to find him of.<br/>Steve Rogers loved Christmas, loved everything about it. But with his mother dead, Christmas just isn't the same.<br/>Or... two lonely boys in an airport bar at JFK on the 23rd of December, somehow end up spending Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Eve Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!! This fic hasn't really been edited yet, but I wanted to get it up in time for Christmas so I shall be editing it in a few days time :)

**Christmas Eve Eve**

**_Bucky_ **

Honestly, he hated Christmas. Not in some massive, crapping on the holiday and all of the traditions way, but in a way that the Christmas trees and the Christmas carols that he couldn’t possibly escape made him feel like he really should have stayed at home. He didn’t hate on those who loved the holiday, and didn’t want to be some form of Grinch, telling children that Santa wasn’t real, or telling adults that Christmas was a load of consumerist bullshit conning you into spending money on items you don’t need, to impress people that you don’t like, in the sake of being a family, and giving gifts to people you absolutely would pour vodka on in the event they were on fire. 

No, he wasn’t exactly anti-Christmas so to speak, but he did not in any way enjoy it. There was no one specific reason that made him hate Christmas, it was just, well it was Christmas. He hated it in the kind of, death by a thousand cuts sense.

Christmas just meant hype and drama and arguing. Christmas meant sitting around the table with family members that asked why he wasn’t currently in a relationship, or where his career was actually going, or whether he thought it atrocious that actual human beings were being given rights this year, and were now legally allowed to do things that shouldn’t have even been illegal for them in the first place. As far as he was concerned, people shouldn’t have to protest for the right to exist, and he shouldn’t have to dine with people for the sake of their relation to him through some messed up thing called DNA, and listen to them talk about things that have no understanding of, or things that they don’t really reserve a right to have an opinion on, well not one that they vocalise in humane conversations.

At the root of it all, that was Bucky Barnes’ problem with Christmas. It was family. Family was the root of all of the issues that he had with that godforsaken day. It was because of his family, the family that he loved in the form of, you are my family and I have to, kind of way. His extended family he hated freely, but his immediate family he felt that he owed them some form of love.

He felt guilty for hating the holiday, for hating the day that was supposed to be about family coming together, the day that was meant to bring him joy and happiness because it was the one day a year where nothing else really mattered. Where nothing else was really that important, because no one was a work, no one had to rush off to somewhere else – because it was Christmas. Because Christmas is the time of year that is filled with joy, and if you hate Christmas you immediately must have some dark twisted backstory or must therefore hate all things that include happiness and love.

Bucky loved his little sister, loved her in more than the ‘I am obligated to love you and so I do’ way. His father died when he was young so he didn’t really contribute much to Christmas dinner or conversations. But his mother on the other hand, she was a different story all together.

Which is how he found himself at an airport bar on the 23rd of December; wondering whether he should pretend that he had missed his flight or got called in for work, when he was already in the same city as his mother and his sister and the rest of the family whom he dreaded to see.

He didn’t hate his mother, not really. They just didn’t get along, they didn’t see eye to eye. She seemed to think that she was always right, that she had some worldly understanding that no one else seemed to gain, that Bucky had all this potential that he was failing to live up to. She didn’t say this of course, didn’t tell him that he was failing her as a person. That at 24 he should have more of his life sorted out than he currently did. He never managed to make her happy, never had managed to get some idea that his mother saw him as good enough. So  instead of facing her, instead of having to listen to her talk about how he could do better, that he just had to put himself out there more, that he was smarter than the majority of other people and that somehow made him better and more deserving of happiness than others – he was hiding in the airport.

So maybe it wasn’t Christmas he hated, maybe he just hated his mother, and how she made him feel on this day, how she had managed to taint Christmas after Christmas for the last 24 years. How she managed to make him feel like he wasn’t good enough, that he would never live up to expectations. So instead of catching a cab and heading to the house he once foolishly called home, he was hiding at the airport bar. Because hiding at the airport bar seemed to be the best thing to be doing right now.

**…**

**_Steve_ **

Christmas used to be a time of joy. Christmas used to be the time of year that Steve looked forward to most of all. He loved everything. Sure he didn’t like the part where he almost died because it was so fucking cold for nights, and he was too small to really hold much weight against the season. But the rest of it he loved. He loved the snow, the frost on his window. He loved the Christmas carols, the bands that sat up in the square. He loved the way people would smile at you on the streets and say Merry Christmas in a slightly hushed joyous tone, like they were exchanging some secret of happiness. He loved shopping for presents, the decorations in the shops, on the streets, on the houses, in his home. He loved it all. He loved how they would clear the table, and him and his mother would sit at the table, jus the two of them, with turkey and cranberry sauce. How they would laugh, and Sarah would drink a few wines, and they would pull crackers, and the joy on his mother’s face was real, her smile growing more and more blurred as the night wore on.

He used to love Christmas. He loved everything about it.

Until Sarah died. It wasn’t the same without his mother. His dad had died before he had even started walking, so it was just the two of them, for all their lives. Her family was back in Ireland, and his fathers was nowhere to be found, after his father had died, they wanted nothing to do with them, not after determining that Steve had an expiration date that was even closer than their own.

And now, three years later, Steve wondered why he even bothered coming back home. Why he even thought that coming back to New York, to Brooklyn was a good idea. Sam had told him to do whatever he wanted, had told him that this was his decision, and that he would support him 100%. He had also told him without words that he didn’t think that Steve should be spending Christmas alone, not when only last year he had a few too many to drink and got in four bar fights before he spent the rest of his night in a holding cell at the police station. Not to protect him, but to protect the drunken assholes of DC, which Steve thought was utterly insane. Honestly Sam feared that this year would be the same, if not worse, and Steve being in DC just meant that he could look out for his friend when he did stupid shit. If he was going to get drunk again and make bad life choices, he might as well do them where they were geographically convenient for Sam to pick up his dumb ass if necessary.

But Steve didn’t want to stay in DC for another Christmas, he wanted to go home for Christmas. It wasn’t until he actually reached the city that he loved, that home was more of a person than a place, and that person was gone, and so was the place. The little apartment that his mother had owned had been sold a few months after she passed, he couldn’t live there alone, not without his mother and not when his life was in DC now. But now that meant, he was in New York and he had no further plan. He couldn’t go back to the house they once owned.

So he found himself in the least shady looking bar in JFK that didn’t cost a fortune for a single drink. Not bothering to find a table or a booth, Steve went straight to the stools by the bar. He wasn’t here for socialising, he was here for drinking, so there was absolutely no point in being further from the alcohol than absolutely necessary.

Steve was half way through his second bottle of beer when he noticed that a few heads were turned towards a table. He could hear the drunken man who was looming over the table at which a very attractive man was sitting at, but he couldn’t actually make out the words that the inebriated man was saying to the brunette whose eyes flicked to him for a moment before going to staring at the table, the look of displeasure plainly written across his features.

The brunette was clearly not enjoying the attention that he was getting. Not one bit. And the guy hitting on him didn’t quite seem to be getting that. Not at all.

Steve leaves them for a few more uncomfortable seconds before he can’t fight it any longer. Sure he doesn’t want to start a bar fight and be kicked out of JFK, but the extremely hot brunette with those eyes, god those eyes, is clearly not enjoying the slender mans’ attention.

**…**

Bucky sees the hot blonde with a body made to die for, and eyes that he so wants to get lost on, and a lip that he wants to tug between his lip, get up from where he is sitting at the bar. While the gesture is nice, it’s sweet and gentlemanly, it is completely unnecessary. Bucky doesn’t need anyone to fight his battles for him. He is perfectly able to fight his own battles for himself.

“Come on sweetheart, it’s Christmas, you don’t want to be lonely, I-” Bucky cannot believe that this guy is still talking, that he actually thinks he has a shot with Bucky. He’s hit on five people in the last twenty or so minutes, and while not being drunk enough for it to be mildly acceptable he is drunk enough that when offended, will no doubt lose his shit.

Bucky just sighs, not wanting to waste more breath on this guy.

“What you think you’re too good for me you little princess? Fucking asshole just-”

Taking a handful of the obnoxious asshole in his hand Bucky squeezes far too tightly for it to be anything pleasurable, Bucky cuts him off, “I’m only going to say this once more, back off, go home and go fuck yourself.”

The man’s entire face reddens and he goes to do something, pull Bucky by the collar or punch him Bucky isn’t quite sure but before he gets the chance Bucky kicks him and as the man drops Bucky resists the urge to grab him by the neck and slam him head first into the corner of the table. Instead, he just waits for the guy to try raise himself from off the ground as he swears, and Bucky gets a handful of hair, tugs him into the upright position and leads him by the ear to the entrance on the bar.

“Merry Christmas.” Bucky says sweetly as he pushes the man out of the bar and into the airport. The blonde looks like he wants to argue with him, wants to say something more but instead of doing something miserable stupid, he wanders off swearing and kicks a pole then swears as he clutches at himself.

Returning to his table, Bucky glances over to the blonde with the bright blue eyes who is still standing a few steps away from his table. “Thanks.”

“For what? I did nothing.” The blonde says, voice a little deeper than Bucky expected. He loves it though, and is already wondering what it will sound like as he screams Bucky’s name, wonders how those gorgeous lips will shape each whimper and cry when Bucky takes him apart.

He doesn’t tell the blonde this of course, instead he simply says, “You were going to help” and gestures to the seat beside him. The blonde regards it for a silent moment, before dragging his bag over and dropping into the seat.

“Not that you needed it. You a little used to it?”

Bucky sighs, runs a hand down his face before he smiles the smile he knows people love, and enjoys the way it makes the blonde shift in his seat a little as he eyes linger on Bucky’s lips. “Pretty face like this, course I am.”

“You don’t like women?” The blonde says, and judging by the look on his face that immediately follows, regrets it terribly. Bucky isn’t sure why the blonde asked, and part of him thinks that perhaps the now stammering man isn’t sure either.

Bucky likes this guy. Likes that this guy is asking him point blank, but isn’t hitting on him really either, it’s just a question, to see if there is potential interest, and Bucky has a feeling that if he says he does exclusively like women, then the blonde will stay beside him, drink a few beers, chat and laugh and not hit on him at all. But he’s not into women, never has been, and god he wants to climb this man like a tree. “Sexually? No.”

“Oh.”

The blonde doesn’t seem to expect that, tenses a little and Bucky forces himself to breathe the next word, “You?”

He seems to consider this for a moment, gives Bucky a look he can’t read and then tenses as he mutters, “I like both.” As if he is preparing for some form of verbal assault.

One that Bucky doesn’t understand the need to brace for. Personally women just don’t do it for him, but objectively he can see how they would do it for others, and dating both just gives you a wider selection of people you could actually fall in love with. Although it gives you a wider selection of assholes too. That of course, Bucky doesn’t say. Instead he smiles at the blonde, who seems to let a breath Bucky didn’t realise he was holding, and as they sit and listen to Santa Buddy play for the hundredth time since Bucky sat down, he wishes he was deaf.

Bucky doesn’t want to ask, but he does want to know, and as their drinks arrive at their table, he takes a sip of his rum and coke and finds himself asking, “Single?”

“Currently, you?”’ Bucky likes the blonde’s eyes he decides, like how they crinkle in the corners when he smiles, and how they watch Bucky intently, with mild curious, kindness and just a little bit of want.

Bucky sighs, thinks about his arm that is currently hidden by his sleeve and how he doesn’t usually sleep for a few nights in a row without being woken by nightmares. “Always.”

“So what’s a pretty boy like yourself doing in a place like this?” Bucky cringes at the line, but after a beat Steve barks out a laugh, the serious look on his face vanishing completely as his eyes light up and his hand is suddenly resting on his left boob as he laughs to himself. Honestly Bucky thinks it’s adorable and he finds himself laughing too. “Avoiding my family, you?”

“Wishing I still had one.” Steve sighs. He didn’t mean to be so honest, didn’t mean for that to just slip out of his mouth, but it does, and Bucky doesn’t give him a look of pity, instead gives him a sympathetic one and indicates to the man standing behind the bar with an eye patch to give them another round.

**…**

Honestly Steve isn’t really sure how they end up here. One second they are drinking in an airport bar complaining about their families and why they aren’t feeling the Christmas spirit at all this year, and the next they are in a cab together, heading to a hotel.

Sure, they aren’t going to be spending the night in the same bed. They’ll both get a different room and sleep in their own beds, alone. But tomorrow, tomorrow they are meeting up for waffles. Steve doesn’t really know why they are getting waffles, he only knows that he’s extremely excited by the prospect of seeing him tomorrow and also getting waffles. His stomach is most excited for the waffles and yet his heart is more excited for the former. Although he is drunk, so he may be a little confused, after all he’s just the met the guy, his heart shouldn’t really be weighing in on anything just yet.

And yet it is.

Steve wants to kiss him, wants to kiss- he falters, stumbles over whatever he was saying, mid conversation as he realises that he doesn’t actually remember the attractive strangers name. He has his hand resting on this guy’s thigh and only seconds ago had been thinking about putting his tongue in his ear, but he can’t actually remember his name.

He wants to ask it, wants to ask those kind eyes and that flirtatious smile, but then they go around a corner and he sees a massive Christmas tree and instead of asking, plasters his face against a window he’s sure hasn’t been cleaned in and while and says, “Look, look!” far more loudly than strictly necessary when the brunette is literally right beside him.

**…**

Bucky doesn’t know why he stays. Doesn’t really know why he lingers in- he searches for the name for a second, Steve? Yes he thinks, Steve’s hotel room, when he really should be getting back to his own room. He has the key for it and everything, isn’t sure where it is but it can’t be hard to find. And yet he doesn’t grab his bag by the handle, instead he just stands there, a few steps from the door as he feels Steve’s eyes on him.

“Let me just say that was incredibly hot what you did today, punching that guy, not just the one that hit on you but the one who wouldn’t leave that girl alone.” Steve’s voice is slightly slurred, and his smile is blurred but Bucky doesn’t really notice. Not when he’s ignoring his bag and watching Steve. 

Bucky isn’t very good with being complimented, usually thinks that people only compliment him because they want something for him, but this, this feels different. Sure, the way that Steve is watching him like he wants to take off all his clothes and pound into him and make him feel it tomorrow, is a little bit of intent. But all the same, Bucky feels that his compliment is genuine.

If Steve wasn’t taller than him, Bucky is sure Steve would be looking up at him through his lashes, and god, Bucky can’t help but notice that Steve has beautiful eyes, and he doesn’t mind the fact that Steve is hitting on him right now, usually he hates being hit on, but Steve is different. He isn’t like that guy at the bar, the douche who wouldn’t leave him alone, so unlike then, this time he likes the attention. They hit on each other at the bar, sure, but this is different, this has intent. And god, Bucky has not had sex in a while, and it’s almost Christmas for Christ’s sake, he feels he deserves this. Encouraged by Bucky’s smile Steve adds, “Very, deeply hot. It was hot, you are hot.”

Bucky is glad he isn’t a blusher because if there was any time he would blush it would be now, instead he looks up at Steve through hooded lashes and gives a small smirk as he answers, “Uh, you’re drunk and I barely know you.” He can’t help the tone of hopefulness that seeps into his voice, it has in fact been a long time, far too long. As Steve raises his water bottle to his mouth, his lips wrapping around the cap, Bucky’s tongue darts out between his lips on of its own accord, and he can feel his jeans getting a little tighter, his jeans that he had noticed Steve staring at when he had arrived.

“I am in fact inebriated.” Bucky’s eyes are still glued to Steve’s lips, and he doesn’t even try to remove his gaze as Steve continues, “But so are you.” Raising the bottle to his lips again, whatever Bucky was going to say in reply is lost as Steve takes another slow sip and Bucky tears his gaze away from his plush red lips only to stare at his throat as he swallows.

Shifting his gaze to Steve’s eyes he answers, “Really you think that was hot?” there is a small smile playing on Bucky’s lips, and what Steve perceives, no hopes, is a look of eagerness. Dropping the water bottle on the floor Steve desperately tries to guess what he is thinking, but as Bucky bites down on his lip, Steve cannot help but be distracted by his lips, especially when Bucky drags his tongue agonizing slow across his bottom lip before it disappears back between his lips, and Steve wants to do nothing more but to follow it.

“Would it be really bad if I just, you know because it’s almost Christmas and you in general….” Steve trails off, not remembering what he was going to say as Bucky places his bottle besides Steve and in doing so places himself between Steve and the wall. The slight buzz of all the alcohol he has consumed in the last few hours, in the hopes that it would let him get over his nerves and forget about Christmas allows Steve forget about what time of year it is, and instead of thinking he leans forward, his mouth hovering over Bucky’s, his gaze catching his, “Can I just…” He starts and as he sees Bucky swallow, Steve drops the rest of his sentence and catches Bucky’s lips instead.

For an awful uncertain moment Bucky stays still, and Steve freezes, but then Bucky’s hands are running up Steve’s arms, towards his shoulders before draping around his neck and pulling his body closer to Bucky’s, while Bucky’s lips are tugging are Steve’s. Moving his hips against Steve’s, Bucky swallows the moan Steve gives when he slowly begins to grind against him. 

“You aren’t too drunk are you, I mean-“ Steve starts.

Bucky ignores the question and instead pushes his mouth back to Steve’s and rolls his hips again. Needing more, more of Steve, more of everything, Bucky’s tongue slips between Steve’s lips needing to taste him, as Steve elicits another moan, as Bucky’s hands move to grip Steve’s ass, pulling him impossibly close.

Not wanting to be outdone, Steve’s fingers play at the bottom of Bucky’s shirt, rolling the fabric between fingers as he slowly pulls it up, before suddenly needing his hands all of his skin, Steve tears his lips from Bucky’s and pulls his shirt over his head and lets it fall to the floor beside them as he gaze runs over Bucky.

Bucky cannot help the small breath of air he lets out as he watches Steve bite his lower lip as his eyes brush over him, he can see Steve pause for a second as he gaze falls onto Bucky’s left shoulder where the scars start, but Steve doesn’t flinch, his gaze flits down his arm following the constant reminder of past pain, the angry red scars that twist and coil down his arm, and then Steve is smiling at Bucky, and Bucky feels like he needs more. His fingers curl around the bottom of Steve’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head, barely giving Steve enough time to raise his arms before it is on the floor and Bucky is eyeing Steve hungrily, already needed more.

Pushing his lips against Steve’s, his kisses and hot and desperate, and by the way Steve is cupping his cheek and moaning against his mouth, Bucky knows Steve wants exactly what he wants. Lowering his hands to Steve’s belt, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, before Steve’s fingers wrap around his and he whispers against Bucky’s mouth, “Take yours off.” Bucky cannot help the moan he lets out which quickly becomes a whine as Steve pulls his lips from his.

His eyes still on Steve, he wishes he wasn’t wearing these god forsaken jeans as he tries his best to peel them off as quickly as he can, it isn’t nearly as eloquent as he wants and as he almost falls Steve’s strong fingers wrap around his arm, and as their eyes meet for only a moment he is glad that he can’t blush, because the look Steve is giving him, is a little much for a one night stand.

Finally in nothing but briefs, Bucky’s hands rest on Steve’s hips as he kisses him again, desperate and hungry. He moans as their hips align, this time only a thin layer of material between them, and he can feel that Steve wants this as much as him. Steve’s hands find their way down Bucky’s torso, over his hips and to his upper thighs, pushing himself towards Bucky more, he wraps his fingers around Bucky’s upper thighs and lifts him off the floor. Bucky’s teeth graze along Steve’s lip before capturing it, eliciting another moan that is quickly greeted by one from Bucky as his legs wrap around Steve’s waist and Steve pushing Bucky hard up against the wall, his hands exploring his body as Bucky’s tongue explores Steve’s mouth, both of them feeling more comfortable than either of them have felt in far too long.

With Bucky’s hips rolling against Steve’s and his kisses turning more demanding, Steve lets out a whine when Bucky breaks the kiss only minutes later, his lips grazing against Steve’s cheeks before his teeth are tugging lightly on Steve’s earlobe as he whispers, “It will work better for this next bit if we’re on a first name basis.” Steve can’t help but moan at that, his fingertips are digging into Bucky’s hips and he is impossibly hard as Bucky nibbles on his ear.

Knowing what he wants, and actually knowing his name this time, Steve almost moans it, “Bucky.”

He can feel Bucky’s lips curl into a grin against his ears before he answers, “Steve.”, his voice thick and sultry, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard his name said so well before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas !!! Hope you had a brilliant day full of festivity and cheer!
> 
> This christmas fic is not as good as last years I am aware, but it was a lot harder to find me some Christmas spirit this year. I hope you like it all the same!
> 
> Hit me up with some comments please and thank you <3


	2. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has an idea...

**Christmas Eve**

The sun is absolutely nowhere to be seen when Steve wakes up, his back colds he groans and rolls over, hoping to find heat beside him, limbs to wrap around him, a chest to snuggle up to. But instead, as he refuses to rise with the day, as he blindly throws his hand out in front of him expecting to find Bucky, it lands on nothing but the empty bed.

_Shit._

Steve cracks one eye open and then the other, and finds himself staring at an empty bed, and wonders to himself why this sight makes him feel like complete and utter shit. He literally just met the guy, just over 12 hours ago now. He shouldn’t care less about this, let alone this much. God, but he does. He really does care, and he can’t stop that sinking feeling in his stomach. Kicking the sheets off his naked body, his gaze falls to the rest of the bedding that is piled on the floor at the foot of the hotel bed. He was sure that they had left at least one of the curtains open, but the sun wasn’t streaming down on his face right now, wishing him a bright and obnoxious merry Christmas eve, so someone must have drawn the curtains to a close. And god Steve wishes that that person is still there.

His clothes are scattered around the room, his shoes thrown in one corner, and the bottle of lube on the bedside table hard evidence that last night really happened, that and the pool of dried come painting his chest and the slight ache, he knows that last night must have happened. He knows that last night was not just an imagining, something that his brain conjured up to make him feel better about being alone on Christmas.

Sitting up in bed, Steve lets the sheet pool on his lap as he scans for evidence that Bucky is still here that Bucky hasn’t left, that Bucky-

There’s a soft sound, and Steve turns his head to follow the source of the noise. He watches the bathroom door open and steam spill out of the bathroom, and he finds himself grinning.

“Morning sunshine.” Bucky says as he appears from the bathroom, towel wrapping around his waist, as he stands in the doorway dripping wet and Steve wants to lick the droplets off with his tongue.

He can’t help the feeling of relief that washes over him at the sight of Bucky. Bucky still being here, because Bucky hasn’t left because Bucky wasn’t just going to leave him without saying goodbye, Steve could not have coped with that. He doesn’t understand why he is so attached to Bucky already, why the thought that Bucky had already left made him feel the way it did. Maybe it’s the time of year, the Christmas season is full of hope and happiness, and Steve cannot help but think that he meet Bucky in that airport bar for a reason, that fate drew them together. Not that he’ll tell Bucky that, doesn’t want to get teased this early in the morning.

“I thought you’d left.” Steve blurts out, not really thinking before he says it. He doesn’t mean the tone to sound desperate and oh so hurt, but it does, and he hopes that Bucky doesn’t notice it.

Bucky is quiet as he contemplates this. Searching Steve’s expression for a moment, he takes a step towards the bed, “Is that what you wanted?”

“I want you to come back to bed.” Bucky’s lips curl into a smile at that as he lets out a relieved sigh and finds himself needing to have Steve’s hands on him again. Needing to have Steve’s hands wander across skin, have his finger nails biting into his flesh and his lips leaving imprints on his skin.

Bucky sticks out his bottom lip as he saunters towards Steve, one hand running through his wet hair as he watches Steve watching him, “But I’m all wet.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that, just raises an eyebrow and holds out a hand. Once Bucky’s close enough Steve rests his hand on his waist and finds his fingers playing with the front of the towel for a second before undoing the knot and pulling Bucky on top of him.

…

Three hours and some room service later, Bucky is lying on his back staring up at the ceiling as he rolls the corner of the top sheet between his finger. He’s been doing that for the last few minutes, as he’s being playing with an idea he isn’t sure is wise.

“Why don’t you…” Bucky trails off. He shakes his head, no, this is a stupid idea. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. This is a dumb suggestion.

Steve watches him for a few seconds, watches Bucky worry his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes his head and blushes a little. He waits for Bucky to continue, and when that’s evident that he won’t be continuing, he prompts, “Why don’t I what?”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, lets the sheets pool in his lap as he turns to face Steve, his eyes wandering over Steve’s torso before his eyes meet his and he bows his head a little as he asks, “Come with me. To my place for dinner? As my boyfriend?”

“But-” Steve starts. Boyfriend? When did this, how did this, what did he miss? Why were they suddenly dating? How drunk was he last night. He was sure he wasn’t that drunk.

Bucky smirks a little as he shakes his head again. “Dude, calm, I don’t mean in a ‘this was love at first sight you must meet my parents immediately’ kind of way. I just mean, you don’t know anyone in the city and you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas when you don’t want to be. If you want to be alone, I totally get that. But if you want family drama and good food then you are more than welcome to join me at my mad house. I mean-”

Steve is smiling as he interrupts Bucky’s little ramble, “You mean you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend and come to your place for Christmas dinner so you can avoid questions about your lack of relationship, and have some eye candy to make you feel better around your family.”

“You think awfully high of yourself, eye candy.” Bucky raises his eyebrow and Steve blushes, as he’s realised what he’s just said.

“I just-”

Bucky squeezes Steve’s thigh and presses a kiss to his forehead, “You’re right of course. Definite eye candy.”

Steve ignores the way that Bucky is eyeing him hungrily now, and instead answers Bucky’s original question. “Yes Buck, I’d love to.”

“Really?” Bucky hadn’t really expected agreement. He wasn’t going to convince him, but he had figured that the hot stranger he had sex with last night probably wouldn’t want to be spending Christmas Day with him and his asshole family.

Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s thigh and pulls the brunette closer to him, “Yeah.”

Not wanting to be distracted, which is hard when Steve is naked, a sheet the only thing between the two of them; a sheet barely giving Steve some modesty, a sheet that seems to be slipping off of both of them. Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve’s face as he says, “Okay, I feel like I should warn you.”

“About your family?” Steve says as he pulls Bucky into his lap, both hands resting on Bucky’s thighs now as Bucky’s knees rest on the bed.

Bucky is already regretting inviting Steve, not because he doesn’t want Steve there but because of the shit that Steve will no doubt have to put up with if he comes. “They are kinda assholes.” Which is kind of an understatement.

“Yeah I got that impression in your wee rant last night.” Steve kisses each word into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky breathes, “Oh.” He doesn’t really remember ranting last year, but maybe because his memory was replaying something far more enjoyable.

Steve nuzzles against Bucky’s neck, his scruff tickles a little but Bucky doesn’t mind, not when Steve sucks against his skin for a moment before he says, “I’m kind of intrigued to be honest.”

“That’s cause you haven’t met them.” Bucky sighs wishing that he could say the same. His extended family are assholes, and as much as his mother makes him feel like he’s a failure, he’s sure she probably doesn’t do it on purpose, and she’s nowhere near as bad as the rest of her family. Or his fathers.

“I have met assholes before.” Steve whispers as he finger slips between Bucky’s cheeks and teases his entrance. Whatever clever thing Bucky was going to say next evaporates as Steve presses his lips against his and kisses him hungrily.

Bucky did not imagine that his Christmas Eve Eve would be spent in a hotel room with a hot stranger, or that he would be having morning sex with that same hot stranger on Christmas Eve – but the world was full of surprises.

…

On the train in silence, Steve shifts his gaze from the window and lets it rest on Bucky. Bucky who looks gorgeous as usual, but tired, oh so tired. How did he not notice this before? Bucky looks exhausted, looks like the energy is being drained out of him at the very prospect of spending an entire day with his family. He looks so tired, and they won’t even be seeing them until tomorrow morning. Early tomorrow morning. Not that Steve minds, he likes mornings, but he doesn’t like the way Bucky seems to be accepting the end of the world that is nigh in his own eyes.

Bucky’s locked in his head, in his thoughts and as much as Steve thinks he should leave him there, let him think for a little while in silence, the frown that has seemingly found permanent residence “So when did we start dating?”

Bucky looks over from the window so quickly Steve thinks his neck might click. “What?”

“Fake dating.” Steve offers, hoping to clear up the confusion.

The brunette nods, once, twice and then a third time before he clears his throat and turns away from Steve as he answers his question with another question. “Oh uhm, I don’t know. Where did we meet?”

“A bar?” Steve suggests. Honestly, he would like to keep their story as close to the reality as possible. That way it’ll not only be easier for him to remember, but it will also mean that there is far less chance of him screwing up and telling the wrong lie to a whole room of Bucky’s family who he is strangely nervous about meeting. And not nervousness he would expect this situation to arouse him, but a different kind of nervousness that he isn’t sure he completely understands. Sam would know, Sam always knows, but he hasn’t talked to him in the last few hours, and the last time they’d talked Sam had laughed for a solid five minutes at how Steve had picked up a stranger at a bar and ended up in a hotel room with him for two nights and was now meeting his family.

Bucky tsks, “Too trashy.”

“Meeting at a bar is too trashy?” Steve raises his eyebrow, slightly offended at the insulation for some reason.

Bucky chews on his lip for a moment, stares out the window at the world as he mutters to himself, “For my family, yes.” He doesn’t even know why he cares, why it matters to him that they don’t frown on the location in which he met his fake boyfriend. But it’s important. It’s important to him that this goes well and for this to happen, they cannot have met at a bar.

“It’s better than a strip club.” Steve shrugs, smiles at his own joke and then almost swallows his own tongue when Buck grins at him, his tongue darting out from between teeth and running across his bottom lip before he looks at Steve like he did last night and smirks as he says,

“You’ve obviously never been to a strip club, they are far better than bars.”

Steve just stares at him for a few moments, resisting the urge to kiss him, so Bucky continues, “We met at Central Perk, you spilt your coffee on me one warning, but luckily for you, I was hot enough to handle a little bit of scalding water.”

“Like in friends?”

“I’m so proud that you get my reference.” Bucky says, clutching his chest as he looks upwards and blows a kiss towards the sky.

Steve laughs, wonders how his face remembers to do that and how his body can still make that sound at this time of year, before he replies, “You should then be proud that I know Central Perk is in New York asshole.”

“Fuck, if we met in Central Perk like 8 months ago then my mother will be all like, ‘What were you doing in New York? Why didn’t you visit me?’” Bucky groans. Why is this fake story bullshit so complicated? Who knew fake dating someone could be so exhausting.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, both of them attempting to come up with a far better meet story. It isn’t until Steve thinks that Sam would know just the best lie when it occurs to him. “Why don’t we say we met at Wilson’s?”

“The place that serves the best fucking caramel slice in all of creation?” Bucky says, looking over at Steve, his gaze torn from the graffiti on the pole a few seats down as he smiles, wishing he could have a piece of that slice right now.

Filling that away to mention to Sam later, not in a bid to make Sam approve of Bucky of course, just to let Sam know that people love his slice without being obligated to out of the laws of friendship as Sam offers says when Clint, Tony or him compliment his food. “That’s the one.”

“The place that makes the best hazelnut hot chocolate that costs less than my left arm?” Bucky says, laughing to himself as his gaze drifts to his left arm for a moment, before he’s shaking his head and smiling once again.

Steve doesn’t miss that, doesn’t miss the way that Bucky is subconscious about his arm, and files a mental note away to kiss it all over if he ever gets the chance, “Yes.”

“So spilt coffee, on me, what a waste. I mean it meant you got to meet me and I’m brilliant so that’s a win, but I can’t believe you wasted an entire coffee to pour it on me in a bid to get me to notice you.” Bucky says, grinning smugly as he gestures at himself, his eyes bright as he flirts a little. What does annoy Steve is that Bucky doesn’t seem to believe that he is brilliant, but that’s just another thing he stores away for later.

For now, he grins right back, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he says as innocently as he can, “Can you blame? It was a white shirt day.”

“Well it wasn’t the time you got me wet, and it won’t be the last Rogers.” Bucky grins, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Steve and despite himself, the blonde blushes.

The lady who gets on just as Bucky says that, glares at the both of them before rushing to a seat well out of earshot. Bucky and Steve watch her for a moment before glancing at each other and collapsing into a fit of laughter.

Not wanting to get off track when the day is almost gone and tomorrow will be hectic, Steve prompts his fake boyfriend, “So we met at Wilson’s and we’ve been dating for eight months?”

Bucky runs his finger over his chin, poses like he’s thinking deeply, then asks seriously, “Depends, do you snore?”

“Not that I know of?” Steve hadn’t expected that question, and it throws him for a second as he wonders if he’ll know Bucky for long enough that they’ll both know.

“How do you not know? If you did people would have told you by now.”

“Well if I stick around long enough you might be able to find that out for yourself.” Steve teases, and then realises what he just said. They had sex once, drunken you’re hot and I’m horny sex, and now he is teasing him about future endeavours. Sure, he wants that. He does. But he didn’t mean to say what he said, or imply that this will be an ongoing arrangement.

“Fair enough Rogers, but if you do snore, I’m gonna let you know right now, I will smother you with a pillow. Not even your hotness can save you from that fate.”

Steve laughs, blushes a little at the hotness comment and instead of disputing it like he normally does, he asks, “So where are you taking me Mr Barnes?”

“To dinner Mr Rogers.” Bucky answers, and offers out his hand for Steve to take it just as the train pulls up at a stop, and the two of them push their way onto the platform and up the staircase and into the wintery wonderland that is the world of New York on Christmas Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be edited later I promise, so sorry for any errors, I just wanted to get it up for Christmas. This fic is unbeta'd and unedited, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.


	3. Christmas Day Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draaaaaaaaaaama... Some family members are just assholes really, no doubt about that.

**Christmas**

Four times before Steve wakes up, Bucky decides that today is a seriously bad idea and they should just call it off. Screw lunch with his family, they could just… not go there and go somewhere else completely. They could hide out in a McDonald’s, that’s still open today and eat pancakes and hash browns, because it’s Christmas and it should be the breakfast menu all day. Or alternatively they could just hide out here and have sex all day. Which is incidentally what they spent a lot of last night and the wee hours of this morning doing. Whispering “Merry Christmas’” into each other’s mouths between kisses before even the thought of Christmas was pushed from their minds as they found other far more enjoyable things to focus on. Like each other for example.

“Stop.”

Bucky glances over to Steve, Steve who hasn’t shifted, Steve whose eyes are still closed as he lies there, seemingly asleep. And yet, he can’t be asleep, he really can’t be because he just spoke. Bucky stares at him, shakes his head and decides that he is actually going mad.

But then the blonde’s lips part and he speaks again, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Bucky shuffles closer to Steve and then stills as he wonders what he could possibly be doing to annoy Steve right now when he is literally just sitting there in silence.

Steve reaches blindly for Bucky and rests his hand on his knee as he says, eyes still closed, “Stop worrying.”

“You’re eyes are closed, you can’t even see me.” The brunette sighs. He wasn’t worrying that loudly, Steve wouldn’t be able to hear his thoughts churning in his brain. And he had only met the guy two days ago, he shouldn’t know his tells by now. He really shouldn’t.

Steve just chuckles, the corners of his lips tugging upwards and making Bucky want to kiss him again. “You think I need to see you to know you are worrying Buck. It’ll be fine, you’re family will love me, I’m very lovable. Now rest your head on my chest and snuggle up real nice and get back to sleep.”

“I don’t remember you being this bossy and up yourself when I picked you up in that bar.”

“You picked me up?” Steve cracks one eye open now and gives him a questioning look. “I do recall me gallantly coming to your rescue.”

Bucky smiles, remembering the moment when the blonde at the bar, shifted up into the standing position to help him with a problem he had sadly dealt with far too many times to be affected by it anymore. “That I didn’t need.”

Steve waves his hand, gesturing Bucky to snuggle up to him as he smiles at the brunette who almost decked the asshole hitting on him and definitely decked the asshole hitting on a girl who wasn’t taking the attention she was getting for another gentleman quite as well as Bucky had. “Cause you are badass, now come, snuggle, let’s go back to sleep.”

Without any further hesitation Bucky obliges, ignores the clock that reads 7:08 and wonders if waking up at 11am will be acceptable when lunch is at 12. As he drapes himself over Steve and feels his heartbeat beneath his ear as it lulls him back to sleep, he finds that he doesn’t really care if they’re late. Not at all.

…

He doesn’t know why he is nervous, standing here in front of his door. Okay, yeah that’s a lie, he does know why he is nervous, but he really would rather not think about it. He’s nervous, and this plan is dumb. But it’s better than spending another Christmas with his family alone.

“You ready?” Steve whispers, taking Bucky’s hand in his. This isn’t part of the plan, but Bucky likes it, loves the soft squeeze of his fingers as Steve offers him support, because Steve knows that despite them being lie, Bucky actually needs someone right now.

Bucky doesn’t have a chance to reply, before the door is pulled open, his mother on the other side, a tense smile on her face and her hair falling out of her bun, an apron covered in flour, no doubt a result of young cousins. “James you are so la- and who is this?”

Steve catches the slight flicker of an expression of hurt across Bucky’s eyes at the use of his actual name, the one that holds no emotional weight, the one that he didn’t choose. And by using his name, but not using his nickname, Steve can see that Winifred Barnes has already done her first intention cut of the night. And honestly, if he hadn’t been watching he would have missed Bucky’s hurt, just like his mother so obviously always does.

His tone is slightly altered from how it was when they were in the lift only a minute ago, less carefree and more hard. “This is Steve.”

“Hello ma’am, Steve Rogers.” Steve extends his hand, and shakes Winifred Barnes’. He may not be meeting his actual boyfriends parents, because he doesn’t have one at this current juncture in time, and has never been in a relationship which has made it to this stage, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression.

Winifred sizes Steve up for a moment before beckoning them both inside. “So nice of you to bring a friend James, without prior warning, I’ll just set up another place at the table for him.”

“Oh it’s no problem-” Steve starts, already embarrassed. Neither of them thought to warn the Barnes’ of the extra gift, and only now does he realise how rude that may have been.

“Yeah don’t worry about it Mum I can just sit on his lap.” He meant it as a joke, an actual joke, but as soon as those words are out of his mouth, he realises his mistake. Steve stifles a laugh and jabs him in the ribs as he blushes.

His mother’s eyes bug out for a moment, before she rearranges her expression in spectacular fashion and hardens her voice as she says, “I hardly think that’ll be necessary. Steve make yourself comfortable, James can you help me get a chair?”

It’s not really a question, nor a suggestion, its only phrased like that to give Bucky some hope of escape. Escape that he doesn’t have, not until tomorrow, and then with the false pretence of work, he can get the fuck out of here and not return for another year.

…

Bucky doesn’t know why his mother made such a fuss about him being late, everyone was still in the living room when they arrived, the food is still cooking and his sister isn’t even here yet. Once he’s found a chair, being lectured by his mother, and helped with dinner and sorting for about half an hour, he plates up, eats the first course of the meal and then gets him and Steve a glass of wine, cause so far, with them both having to listen to Susan talk about her new child and Gary about his new boat, they both require a much needed refill.

Wandering back into the dining room, he finds that the attention of most of his family, at least the ones who are present, is on Steve, which cannot mean anything good.

Bucky hands Steve a glass of wine as he slides up beside his boyfriend at the dining table, a little too close for them to be friends, but not so obvious that it’s clear they are dating. That is made extremely clear when Bucky’s grandmother pipes up, “So nice of you to bring a friend James.”

“Oh he’s not my friend-” Bucky starts. He was hoping for a better time and place and way to announce this to his family, but he supposes it could be worse. If the night goes well, they could be finding out by walking in on Steve and him making out, or perhaps something far more enjoyable and less family friendly.

He’s about to say he’s my boyfriend, when Steve interrupts him, “We’re engaged!”

He doesn’t even know where it came from, no idea where it came from at all. But he is a terrible liar and he panicked. Bucky has schooled his expression but from the way Bucky squeezes Steve’s hand, he knows that he isn’t pleased by this development.

“You’re what?” Winifred says, still not quite recovered from the news that her own son has been in a relationship for the past eight months and is only telling her now.

Steve ignores the pain in his side and tries to lower the pitch of his voice back to normal as he says, “Isn’t that surprising?”

Bucky just smiles to himself, trying to gather himself before Steve can say anything else insane. He avoids looking at his mother, he doesn’t want to see her expression right now. Doesn’t want to see that hurt look in her eyes, doesn’t want to see that searching expression as she tries to work out why her son is engaged and she doesn’t know about it.

“I’ll just show Steve the bathroom.” Bucky tugs Steve out of the room, and down the corridor, before pulling him into what looks like a guest bedroom where the bags they brought are already sitting.

“What the hell was that about!” Bucky hisses at Steve, stepping aware for him as soon as the door is closed.

Steve just shrugs, “I panicked.”

“We are dating Steve dating! Not bloody engaged, are you crazy?” Bucky is pacing, up and down the room, which isn’t really that big, so Bucky is more just pivoting on the heel of his foot every few seconds. Bucky doesn’t mean to be hissing at Steve, but he has to keep his voice down and he’s not exactly pleased with the turn of events.

“Look I’m not used to lying alright, not everyone is as good at it as you are.” Steve realises he’s overstepped as soon as those words come out of his mouth, but he can’t take them back, so they hang in the air between them for a single moment before Bucky’s expression hardens even further.

“Yeah that’s cause I had plenty of fucking practice didn’t I? Not everyone lives apple pie all American lives.” Bucky spits out, his eyes full of hate and Steve can’t help but reach out to him. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he takes Bucky’s hand in his, and surprisingly Bucky doesn’t resist.

Bucky’s eyes soften after a moment, soften as they look into Steve’s bright blue eyes and he lets Steve pull him into a hug as he whispers, “Buck,” into his hair.

Bucky sighs. Honestly this plan was destined to fail, but he had hoped that it would go better. He had hoped that they could get through the day without incident, well major incident at least. And now that they thought they were engaged, when Steve and Bucky went back to their old lives and it became very clear that Bucky was not only not getting married but was also single, it would be a nightmare. “Why do we have to be engaged?”

“More importantly, where is the ring?” Steve asks, and immediately regrets it as Bucky glares at him. This is sort of his fault after all.

Sighing, Bucky runs his fingers through his hair,  wondering how on earth this managed to slip from Steve’s mouth. He knew he wasn’t a great liar, Steve had said as much, but he hadn’t expected Steve to just blurt out that they were engaged. This was very not part of the plan.

“Not here because we weren’t actually going to tell them till later?” Steve just nods and holds onto Bucky closer. Not wanting to let go. Not for another few minutes at least. Well not ever if he had his way.

Five minutes later Bucky sighs, presses a quick kiss to Steve’s lips without really even thinking about it then squeezes Steve’s hand and tugs him back towards the dining room where the rest of the family whose names Steve doesn’t remember are sitting. “Let’s just finish lunch, and try not to say anything else stupid please Steven.”

…

All Bucky wanted was another glass of wine. That is all he wanted. Steve went to pee and he went to get another drink. But instead of making it to the table, he finds himself corned by his aunt with an empty glass of wine in hand.

He knows what’s coming, has been waiting for it for years, waiting for this to come up. The only reason it hasn’t before, is because no one knew. Well no one except for Becca, and he was pretty sure his mother knew, although he had never confirmed it and she had never actually asked. She was waiting for him, and he was waiting for her.

His aunt takes a small sip of wine, before glancing over her shoulder to where the rest of the family is all gathered in the living room, laughing and drinking as the Christmas music playing from the record player covers there conversation. Judith doesn’t want to embarrass him after all, just wants to offer him the guidance that everyone else has failed to.  “You do realise this cannot possibly last don’t you?”

Bucky stares hopelessly at his glass of wine for a second, wishing that it would refill itself before his brain processes what she just said. “Huh?”

“Do you seriously think you can actually get married?” She barks out a laugh at that, laughing at the joke that Bucky wants to slap her for. “You two can’t even have children. You waste your time at that company and now you’re wasting your time with this boy just to be a modern man.”

Bucky doesn’t notice that Steve has returned from the bathroom, hasn’t noticed that he is watching him as he is corned by his aunt. His aunt has noticed either, which is probably why she continues speaking, not loud enough to be heard by the dozen people in the living room, but loud enough so that Steve can hear.

Bucky is still failing to understand what his aunt is actually on about. He’s never liked her, and this only solidifies that, but because he doesn’t know her, he doesn’t understand what the bloody hell she is on about. “A modern man?”

“Yes, down with all this,” she lowers her voice, “sin.”

This time he understands. Understands by the meaningful look in her eye, the way that her lips curl a little, repulsed by the thought of what Bucky might, or more so who, be doing in his spare time. “You mean me being attracted to men?”

Judith nods, like she’s just been told that Bucky is dying of cancer. Bucky thinks he will definitely be needing more than a glass of wine after this. She nods solemnly again, before she takes another sip of her wine and continues, “I was afraid that this might happen.”

“What?”

Judith looks so sympathetic, her brown eyes softening as she looks at Bucky like he’s a clueless child that will never understand why Santa isn’t real. Honestly, Bucky just wants to get another glass of wine, and maybe stab out his aunts eyes with a fork. “Without the guidance of a strong male in your life its unsurprising that,”

Now this he was not expecting.

He had expected his aunt to say a great many things, but this? This was not one he had counted on. Gritting his teeth he starts, “Me being gay has nothing to do with Dad being dead,”

“Of course not James, but if he were here to-” His aunt’s voice is dripping with pity, as she tries to help this little lost puppy realise that this isn’t his fault and that it can be easily fixed. It’s not too late for him to a strong male role model in his life. His father may be dead, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be saved from this dangerous path.

Steve is about to step in, he doesn’t know what is going to say, but he does know that slapping his fake fiancés’ aunt is not the way to go, however tempting it is. But he doesn’t get a chance because Bucky’s mother appears from behind him, apronless with her hair still falling out of her bun, but her eyes hardened. “That is quite enough Judith.”

“Oh Winnie I was just-” Judith begins. Perhaps she thinks that her sister agrees with her, or perhaps she thinks that her sister didn’t actually hear most of that. Whichever way, she’s wrong.

Winifred sighs, and doesn’t let her idiotic sister get out another word, “Being a bitch, yeah I’m aware and quite used to it sis. Bucky wanting to take it up the ass has nothing to do with George’s passing.”

Bucky’s face had only subtly changed when talking to Judith, his expression had hardened only a little, and it cuts Steve to realise that it’s because he is used to it. But now that he is mother is speaking, Bucky looks mildly surprised as he grins and tries not to laugh. Steve is blushing a little, even though none of it is directed at him.

“Winifred!” Judith takes a small step backwards, her hand going up to her mouth.

Winifred seems unphased by her statement, even though Bucky has only heard his mother swear on about ten occasions and have never heard her say anything like that, and never in a million years thought that she would. “Honestly Judith, look at young Steven here, could you really say that given the opportunity you wouldn’t give him with a spoon? You can’t really blame Buck.”

“No I can’t say I can.” Pipes up a voice from the doorway, and all four of them turn towards the source of the sound. Steve sees Bucky’s eyes land on him for just a moment before Steve turns towards the newcomer, he can’t get a read of Bucky’s expression, and wonders whether Bucky is wondering how much he heard.

Once Steve is facing the brunette wearing a knitted teal jumper with a massive R on the front, her hair tucked into the scarf wrapped around her neck, with a massive box in hand that appears to be full of something heavy, Bucky lets his eyes slid from Steve, and finds himself grinning at the newcomer, “So nice of you to finally join us dear sister.”

“I think I’m going to need another drink.” Judith mutters to herself as one hand goes up to her temple and she heads towards the scotch, forgoing another class of Chardonnay to hit the slightly harder stuff.

Glaring at Judith until she disappears from sight, Bucky’s sister kicks the door shut behind her and places the box on the floor somewhat gently. “Well if I knew I was missing such drama I would have spent less time in the liquor store picking up much needed supplies.”

 “Don’t worry, more alcohol means there will no doubt be some form of encore.” Bucky jokes, but the smile he gives doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He had warned Steve that his family had a few assholes, and while he had expected something like this, he hadn’t expected all of this.

Becca kisses her mother on the cheek, smiles at Steve and then lowers her voice a little so Judith won’t hear her, “Thank the lord, I’ve always wanted a credible reason to slap a bitch.”

Bucky’s smile actually reaches his eyes as he pulls his sister into a hug, clinging onto her desperately for a few seconds as he whispers into her hair, “I’ve missed you sis.”

“That’s your own damn fault for not visiting me more.” Becca breathes back as she hugs him back and breathes in her brother.

Pulling back, Bucky gapes at his sister for a second, “You live in England!”

“Excuses, excuses.” Becca just rolls her eyes, then turns from Bucky to Steve, who hasn’t moved since Winifred started speaking. “I’m Rebecca, although everyone calls me Becca, who may I ask are you?”

Taking the outstretched hand, Steve shakes it and smiles at Bucky’s sister who he already likes, “I’m Steve, it’s lovely to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Becca glances over to Bucky, gives him a look that says ‘you did you find this guy, nice work’ before smiling at Steve, “And I have heard not a thing about you.”

Winifred waits a beat before she excitedly exclaims, “He’s Bucky’s fiancé!”

Becca fixes Bucky a look before she is smiling and pulling the both of them into a hug as she shrieks excitedly about being a bridesmaid. Steve feels bad for lying to Bucky’s favourite family member, and Bucky knows what Becca’s look meant. She didn’t buy their story, not at all, but she was going to go along with it and corner Bucky later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter will be up in a day or two <3
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS !!

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas my lovelies! Hope that you had a good day regardless of whether or not you actually celebrate the day. I would love it if you could hook me up with some comments!
> 
> It's not as good as last years I am aware, but it was a lot harder to find me some Christmas spirit this year. I hope you like it all the same!


End file.
